A World Awaits
by Margaritaville08
Summary: English gentleman Jonathan Tavares' ship gets captured by pirates en route to the British colonies. Fearing for his life, John faces a decision to join or die. A pirate's life promises adventure and riches, but his greatest adventure will be that of the ship's captain, Molly McTavish pirate of the seas.
1. Part I

John awoke when he was thrown from his sleeping canopy, a large blast causing his ears to ring and the ship to pitch as he struggled to get his feet underneath him and figure out what in God's name was happening. He could hear men screaming from the main deck, the rest of the crew that were asleep in the cabin scrambling around to pull on clothing, reaching for their weapons as they took off towards the commotion. He finally snapped to attention, hastily pulling on his overcoat, grabbing the small dagger that he kept on his person and heading up towards the main deck his blood running cold as the world 'pirates' echoed its way down the ladder.

He pulled himself onto the deck as the ship took another hit, pitching to the side and throwing John off his feet. He looked up to see madness, explosions ringing out, as they seemed to be fired upon from all sides. A slight whoosh had him dropping back to the deck, narrowly avoiding a cannonball as it flew above him and embedded itself in the quarterdeck.

The night was black as he struggled to see just how many ships had them surrounded when one of the crew called out that they were going to be boarded. The screams of dying men made him sick as dozens of pirates stormed the deck, easily overrunning the remaining crew, who held their hands up in surrender as they realized that they were fighting a losing battle.

He was quickly manhandled with a gun at his back towards the rest of the surrendered crew, a large hand disposing him of his lone dagger as he was roughly pushed onto his knees by the circle of men.

"Well, well, gentlemen. What a beautiful night it is."

John's head snapped up as the group of pirates surrounding them parted to allow their captain to step through. His eyes widened as he looked up from the deck, taking in the woman before him. She wore seamen's clothing, slop pants tucked into worn leather boots and a billowy low cut tunic that was pushed up to her elbows as she crossed her surprisingly muscular arms over her chest. Her long blonde hair was bound by a leather, hanging over one shoulder, stray pieces of it blowing in the cool night air. A blonde eyebrow was cocked as she smirked at her prisoners, motioning to an overly large black man to her right.

"What are they moving, Simmonds?"

"Tea, some livestock and quite a bit of weaponry Captain."

The woman tsked before leaning down so she was eye level with the men, looking each one of them square in the eye with a wicked smile on her face. John gulped when her piercing blue gaze met his, never before fearing for his life like he currently was.

"No doubt bound for the colonies, aye?"

When she didn't get an answer she sighed before standing up to her full height and eying the men before her like they weren't worth the salt on the bottom of her boots.

"Where were you to come ashore? Tell me and you may just live to see the sunrise."

"We will not be talkin' to no wench!"

John barely had time to blink before a shot rang out and the cankerous old captain from his ship fell dead to the deck, a crimson pool quickly forming on the wood paneling. The woman cocked her gun again, pointing it calmly at the group as John struggled not to get sick.

"You have five seconds and then you all end up like your little pig of a captain here."

The words were barely out of her mouth before an unfortunate man that John had conversed with once or twice during the voyage spoke up.

"North colonies. New York first and then up to Boston."

The captain gave the man a dry smile and brought the barrel of her gun up to rest in between his eyes, causing the man to gulp.

"You aren't lying to me are ya?"

The man sputtered and shook his head causing her to smile and nod.

"Good," her words were followed by another shot as the man's body keeled over, brain matter scattering behind him.

"What'd you do that for! He told you what ye wanted!"

She turned the gun on the young man kneeling next to John, cocking the weapon and walking over to them, eyes ablaze. John managed to kick his ankle into the boy's in warning. Sidney had been one of his only companions on this horrible journey across the Atlantic and he didn't want the young man to meet the same fate as the last two crewmen.

"Would you like to be next boy?"

"N-no," he stuttered. "No, m'lady. I'm sorry."

To John's shock the woman threw her head back and laughed, some of her crew chuckling along with her.

"You hear that lads? This boy thinks me a lady!"

Her crew roared before settling down as she looked down at the young dark haired boy, tilting her head in skepticism.

"How old are ya, boy?"

"Seventeen, miss."

"Barely a man. This your first voyage?"

Sidney nodded nervously, gulping as she smiled wickedly at him before taking a step back and surveying the remaining ten members of the crew.

"They will do nicely, toss em in the brig!"

John stumbled as a pair of large hands hauled him to his feet, pushing him to the side of the ship where a gangplank had been erected to a larger ship.

"Raid the stocks, take what we need and then burn the rest. I have no use of an outdated galleon."

"Aye Captain," John was pushed down the slippery gangplank and stepped down onto the deck of the pirate's ship, another dozen or so of her crew meeting them with guns drawn and swords pointed. They were pushed and pulled down a flight of stairs to the belly of the ship and thrust into large cells, the stank of the brig causing John's nose to crinkle in displeasure. Once they were all secured and settled in the men started to talk, expressing their displeasure at being taken captive by pirates, and by a pirate woman no less.

"What'd ya think they're gonna do to us?"

John shook his head at Sidney, leaning back against the damp wood of the hull.

"God only knows."

John awoke the next morning with a crick in his neck to the clanging of the cell gates. To his surprise a short muscular woman was pulling open the cell door, eying the prisoners with glee. John saw the look the two men next to him gave each other a split second before she did as they charged at her. She huffed as one grabbed for her, figuring they could easily overpower her slight frame. John drew back in shock as the woman head butted the man, a crack ringing out through the bowels of the ship as his nose broke before she spun and landed a kick to the temple of the other idiot. She huffed again before tossing her dark braid over her shoulder and glaring at the rest of the prisoners.

"Anyone else care to be fresh this morning?"

Her question was met by silence from the men, with the exception of the cursing and groaning from the two men writhing on the floor.

"That's what I thought. Well, these two imbeciles made my decision easy," she reached for the two men, catching them by the scruffs of their neck and pushing them towards the stair that led to the main deck before relocking the cell. "Come on you two. We have quite the surprise for you, oh yes we do."

John shivered at the wicked gleam in her eye as the two men were lead up the stairwell. Loud cheers and the clang of swords could be heard for hours on the deck, only stopping after the crew was heard whooping and hollering, followed by the loud crack of the gun causing John to wince. Sidney's head fell back against the hard steel of the cell wall as he let out a curse.

"God help us all," he was met by a short bark of laughter as the short dark haired woman from before descended the stairs with two large buckets. She set them down outside of the cellblock and cocked an eyebrow at the young lad.

"You think god can help ya? Let me tell you somethin' laddie, God aint anywhere near this vessel."

John could hear Sidney gulp as the woman opened the cell door and pushed in the two buckets, one containing bread and the other fresh water. She cocked her pistol and aimed it at the ravenous prisoners.

"Now, none of you fools are thinking about followin' your shipmates in their stupidity are ya?"

At the shake of their heads she smirked and kicked the bucket of bread over, laughing as the desperate men jumped on the pieces. John waited until she locked the cell door before grabbing a piece of bread off the floor and biting into it, before a ladle of water was passed to him.

The theme continued each day, around noon two prisoners were brought to the deck, cheering from the pirates ensued and then silence followed by a gunshot. By day four there was only John, Sidney and two crewmen left, all of them having resigned their fait to die on this blasted ship. However, when the large black man was sent down to take all of them up to the deck, John was certain that he would not be returning to the cells.

"Ah gentlemen!" John's back tensed as the captain called out to them from her perch on a wooden chair overlooking the main deck. "What a beautiful day it is, hm? You lads are in for quite the treat today."

She pushed herself up from the chair beckoning to John and Sidney with a flourish.

"Please lads, if you would care to join me to watch the entertainment from the forecastle I'd be quite honored," her voice was laced with sarcasm as she motioned to the two small chairs placed next to her. John knew he had no choice in the matter as he and Sidney trudged up the stair, sitting stiffly down in the chairs provided for them, getting a wicked grin from the Captain.

"Ah splendid, well lads, it is time!"

"Time for what?" John had to curse the man's stupidity as he stood next to the other prisoner on the deck.

"Ah time for what he asks! Well, you see it's really quite simple, you two are to fight for our entertainment! Kane, get them some weapons will you!"

The men were each handed a crude blade, weighing it in their hands while one turned back to the Captain.

"That's it?"

The woman got a wicked gleam in her eye as she nodded to the man.

"To the death."

John could visibly see the man's face pale.

"Who ever shall survive may be offered a place amongst my crew, if I see him fit."

John glanced around with the other men, none of them noticing any of their former crewmembers on the deck. Noticing their looks the woman rolled her eyes and fixed them with a glare.

"None of them were deemed fit. All the more reason for you to impress me."  
John dug his fingers into the armrest of the chair as the men faced each other, wondering if they would actually go through with it. The clang of swords answered his question as a balding man with a few missing teeth attacked the tall skinny one. He watched as the fighting went on and on, each man visibly exhausted as they parried blow after blow. Finally the balding man stumbled, missing a step and the lanky one took his chance, knocking the sword from the man's hand and driving his up and through his chest, the crack of his chest bone giving way causing John's stomach to roll.

John's gaze flicked to Sidney's, the terror in the young man's eyes palpable as he figured out that they were going to be the next two to duel to the death.  
The crew roared as the balding man's body fell to the deck, blood pouring out of the wound and quickly bleeding the life from the poor old bastard. The tall lanky man stood out of breath, dropping his sword and squeezing his eyes closed. The Captain stood, hands clapping together as she looked at the condemned man.

"Good, very good. What is your name sailor?"

"Higgins, Captain. Me name is Higgins."

"Very well. Tell me Mr. Higgins, do you fear death?"

The man seemed to stutter before shaking his head causing the captain to smile.

"Ah, and why is that?"

"Me wife, in death we'd be reunited at last."

The captain nodded.

"Ah, poetic indeed. Now Mr. Higgins I am about to offer you something that none of your unfortunate crewmates received, are you going to accept?"

The man nodded and the woman smiled.

"Excellent! Well done Higgins, McDonald show the man his quarters!"

Higgins was led to the hull by a burly man of an escort, the captain watching with a satisfied gaze before turning back to Sidney and John.

"Well, that was quite entertaining wasn't it?"

Neither John or Sidney answered but were left looking skeptically towards each other. Her gaze turned towards Sidney, a crude smile on her face at the terror in the young man's eyes.

"Tell me, boy, what is your name?"

"Si-sidney, m'lady."

The woman tutted and drew her curved dagger from her hip, holding it up in the light and inspecting the blade for the boy to see.

"Again with the m'lady nonsense. If you are insisting upon proper titles my lad, then you shall address me accordingly as Captain McTavish, aye?"

"Aye, captain. My apologies."

"Tell me Sidney, what's a young boy like you doing working for the British Royal Navy scum?"  
Sidney flushed and stuttered his response out.

"I-I, wanted to leave Great Britain and see the world. Adventurin' like the great explorers of old m'la- Captain."

Captain McTavish smirked, sheathing her blade before calling out to the deck below.

"Anna!" The same small dark haired woman that had been bringing them their meals in the brig trotted up the stairs, her gaze freely roaming over the young boy who was shaking in his boots.

"Why don't you take young Sidney here below deck and help him get _acquainted _with the ship aye?"

The young woman's gaze was sharp as she smiled and nodded, grabbing the poor boy by the arm and yanking him from his seat.

"Aye," her fingers walked themselves up Sidney's chest causing him to gulp. "I think we could have much use for you here."  
Sidney was dragged away and John pushed himself from his seat.

"Don't hurt him, please. He's just a boy!"

His words fell on deaf ears as Sidney was lead below deck and Captain McTavish turned towards him with a predatory gleam in her eye.

"Who said anything about hurting him?"

She glanced towards where Sidney and Anna had disappeared, grinning as she looked back to John.

"And that boy you speak of will be a man the next time you catch sight of him."

John flushed bright red at the woman's insinuation, the heat blossoming in his cheeks causing the captain to laugh out in glee.

"And you, what is your name?"

"John, Jonathan Tavares."

"Well John, give me your hand."

John tried to control the shaking appendage as he placed it in her outstretched palm. She grabbed it, flipping it so his palm was facing up before running her fingers over the plump flesh. Her fingers were rough and calloused, evidence of long days of hard work proudly displayed as she lightly traced the lines of his soft hands.

He didn't breathe as she traced the place where his fingers met his palm, finally finding what she was looking for as she dropped his hand. Turning to the crew that was bustling around the deck she barked out a name, a small blonde man running up the few stairs that separated the forecastle from the main deck and nodding at the captain.

"Aye Captain?"

"Kane, please show Mr. Tavares here to my quarters and keep him entertained until I am able to meet with him."

"Aye Captain."

The man grabbed John's bicep, his grip strong for such a short man, leading him up another flight of stairs towards the stern of the ship. John could feel his pulse beating through his veins, his blood rushing through his ears as he struggled to control his breathing, knowing for certain that he would not live to see the next sunrise.

Kane opened a set of double doors and pushed John through them, leading him into a large ornately furnished room with windows overlooking the stern. Kane pushed John into a thick wooden chair next to a large mahogany table, maps and various charts strewn about with no particular order, held down by metal paperweights and golden candelabras. John wiped his sweaty palms on the thick wool of his pants, glancing around before his gaze landed on the blonde man, receiving a scowl from the childish looking man in return.

"What're you lookin at pretty boy?"

"N-nothing," John cursed himself as he stuttered out an answer.

"Probably wondering what the Captain's gonna do with your sorry arse, aint ya?"

John didn't answer but the look on his face must have been enough. Kane grinned and plopped himself onto the large table in front of John.

"Oh she's got quite the creative streak, our Captain. Once saw her rip a man's pride and joy clean off with her bare hands. British scum said some choice words about women and the like and she de-maned him without breakin' a sweat. Fed him live to the sharks after that."  
John was sure Kane could see the sweat breaking out across his brow as the man continued to talk.  
"Another time, she got word that the Royal Navy had a contract out on 'er. So she single handily commandeered their pride and joy, The Charlatan, and sunk the other four ships right there in Port Bristol."

John had remembered hearing about the attack a few years back, four of the British Royal Navy's pride and joy sunk in the dead of the night and the flagship commandeered by the very pirates they were contracted to hunt. The fact that this woman had been the one behind it made him fear her even more.

"That's how we got this here beauty," Kane smacked the desk he was sitting on. "Course we couldn't very well be sailing around in a British ship, so the Captain painted 'er black."  
John nodded, his leg twitching as it tried to bounce with nerves.  
"That's when I first saw 'er, right off the coast of Galway. Black as night she was with red sails, takin' on one of the Royal fleetmaster's best. Sank it right in front of me eyes and brought her to port. I was just a lad at the time but I proved me worth to 'er and sure enough here I am."

"Quite a tale Mr. Kane, surely Mr. Tavares doesn't need to be hearin' your idle gossip."  
The man gave her a roughish grin as the captain walked around to where he was sitting, hopping off of the table with a flourish.

"Well, ye did say to keep 'em entertained."

"So I did. Dismissed."

"Aye Captain."

John could hear the click of the wooden door shutting, not daring to turn around as he kept his eyes on the woman in front of him. She stood over him, menacing and brutal as John vibrated with fear. Captain McTavish bent down, bringing her to his eye level as her cool blue gaze met his, the side of her mouth quirked up in amusement.

"You may stop quivering in your boots Mr. Tavares, I am not going to hurt you."

John nodded but her words did not stop the fear running through his veins. The captain shook her head and stood to her full height.

"I can see that you do not believe me," she walked to the end of the table, grabbing a ripe red apple before biting into it. John could feel her gaze roaming over him.

"Tell me, what is it that you did in rainy old Great Britain?"

"I-I managed accounts."

"Accounts you say. Who for?"

"The Royal Treasury, Captain."

"The Royal Treasury! And what was an accounts manager for the Royal Treasury doing on a ship to the colonies. I'd imagine a title such as yours held quite the prestige at home."  
John nodded and tried to swallow, his mouth felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton.

"I was set to settle with relatives on Long Island and eventually to marry."

"Ah," her eyes lit up with delight, "to marry you say!"

"Aye, a marriage arranged between families."

"Ah, I see. And your fiancé, do you wish to see her again?"

John blushed and looked at the floor.  
"We've never met."

Captain McTavish sat down on the table in front of him.  
"Aye, that's quite the popular tradition between you Brits isn't it? Forcing children to marry off to ensure bloodlines and wealth."  
She scoffed and threw the finished apple core out of an open porthole.

"You're not from England?"

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was wincing, wishing he could take them back. She blinked at him once before throwing her head back and letting out a long laugh.

"No laddie. I'm from Ireland, though your king seems to think that we are one and the same."  
John nodded, the slight rouge in her accent that had originally been puzzling for him now made sense.

"So why leave a steady job and British prestige for the colonies. Surely you had heard the stories about how uncivilized they are?"

John managed a shrug of his shoulders and met her gaze.  
"It is what my family bade me to do."

"And do you not control your own fate Mr. Tavares?"  
He didn't reply and she sighed.  
"You Brits, always so prim and proper," she jumped off of the table and slowly walked around it, hand ghosting over the charts on the table before coming to rest on an ivory pistol.

"I needn't be rude but if you are to kill me could you please be done with it?"  
Her hand froze and John gulped, having enough of the cat and mouse game she was playing with him.

"Do you know how you can tell the most about a man, Mr. Tavares?"  
She slid around the table so she was back in front of him, ignoring his previous request as she grabbed his arm, jerking him to his feet and bringing the ivory pistol to his neck. He flinched as the cool bone made contact with his feverish skin, tracing its way up towards his temple. The warmth of her breath ghosted over his skin as he stood hip to hip with her.

"Many people say it is the eyes that are the window to the soul," the barrel of the pistol stopped and John took a deep breath, waiting for the inevitable. When he felt the pistol move away from his skin he released the air from his lungs. Her other hand jerked his arm up, presenting his hand to her gaze. He heard the thud of the pistol as it was placed back on the table, her hand tracing over the lines on his palm.

"But it is a man's hands that truly tell his life story," her gaze flicked back to his. "And yours speak volumes Mr. Tavares."  
She dropped his hand from hers and took a step back, eying him as she leaned back against the table.  
"I told you no harm would come to you Mr. Tavares and I am a woman of my word. I have no use to harm an innocent man that has not seen a day of manual work in his life. Alas, you have no place in my crew as such, you will need a way to earn your keep if you are to stay on my ship."

"I suppose I don't have a choice do I?"

"Aye, your answer tells me you are at least somewhat intelligent. As you may have noticed I am quite a busy woman and tend not to have time for certain delicate matters such as bookkeeping and the like," she motioned to a smaller desk in the corner, the top of which was piled high with thick books and scattered with papers.

"You help me keep up with my records and you might live to see land again, aye?"  
John nodded, knowing that it was either this or a bullet to the brain.

"Yes."

"Splendid, I expect you will need to get started right away," she gestured to the desk before heading to the door that lead out of her chambers.

"Oh and John?"  
John nodded at her, eying the various papers on the table with skepticism.

"Cross me, or try anything funny and you'll be meetin' Davey Jones, savy?"  
His gaze flicked to hers and he gulped, nodding in consent before she left. He sighed as he walked over to the desk, plopping down as he eyed the volumes before him, trying to find a place to start.

The door opening had him pushing back from the desk, straightening his spine and sighing as it popped in relief. He rubbed his hands into his eyes, trying to clear his head before turning to find two men and a woman clearing the long dining table. They paid him no mind as they set a tablecloth and two place settings before bringing in trays of food that made his mouth water and his stomach rumble. He had eaten nothing but bread and water for the past four days, and nothing but salted meat and hardtack on the previous ship.

The door opened again and Captain McTavish strode through, smiling when she saw the spread on the table.

"Ah this looks excellent! Neal, Skinner, Meg I'd like you to meet our newest captive Jonathan Tavares."  
The two men barely nodded at him, both looking raged and worn out. The girl was tall, with curly brown hair and a pale complexion, she gave him a proper nod and a blush to go with it.

"Mr. Tavares here is going to be taking over the bookkeeping for the time being."  
At this the men perked up, both of them smiling slyly at the captain.

"Captain, Ovie aint gonna be happy with this."

"Aye, he's gonna have another fit. Barely gettin' over the last tantrum he threw."  
Captain McTavish laughed and shook her head.

"Well maybe that damn man should learn how to properly count before he makes attempts at me bookkeeping again."  
This had the two men guffawing, bent over at the waist while Meg let out a little chuckle.

"Gentlemen, you are dismissed. Get some shuteye. Meg," the girl stepped forward and nodded at her captain.

"Why don't you go help out Anna with young Sidney?"

The girl flushed red but nodded, quickly scrambling out of the cabin causing the captain to chuckle.

"That wee girl is too shy for her own good. Scary as a demon during a fight though."  
She gestured to the table and nodded her head at John.

"Please Mr. Tavares, have a seat."

John tried not to look too hasty as he approached the table, the aroma from the food in front of him causing his stomach to growl. Still, he was a proper English gentleman and waited for the captain to be seated before sitting in his own, placing his napkin in his lap and picking up his fork and knife instead of just grabbing the leg of chicken in front of him like he wanted to.

They ate in silence, John overly aware that, for a pirate, Captain McTavish possessed impeccable table manners. She took a sip of her goblet before passing the decanter towards him, motioning to his now empty cup. Pouring the wine into his goblet he took a sip, biting back a moan as the flavors of cherries and smoke danced on his tongue. When he glanced up at her a smile was on her face as she stared at him.

"Do you like the wine, Mr. Tavares?"

"Yes, Captain. It is unlike anything I have ever tasted."

"Far cry from the dry grapes that the Brits import no doubt. This special reserve is from a far away land called Australia. Have you heard of it?"

"Only tall tales, of prisoners and convicts."

"Yes, well there are also quite a few vineyards as well. The wind coming from the south of the earth creates quite a different flavor."

"It is rivaled by no other," Captain McTavish nodded before tipping her glass back and finishing the remainder of the sweet drink.

"So, how fare me books?"

John flushed and rubbed the back of his neck as he struggled to tell the woman just how unorganized and frustrating reviewing just a few pages of the manifests had been. He wasn't even sure half of it had even been written in English.

"I, uh, I am running into some trouble but it is nothing that is not solvable."  
He expected anger but only got the captain rolling her eyes and pouring herself another drink.

"Aye, I expected as much. Our last bookkeeper didn't exactly understand the process and detail that bookkeeping took, although he did try. Didn't so much help that he barely speaks proper English as it is."

John helped himself to a small cake for desert, the sweet treat making him think that perhaps the life of a pirate wasn't so bad. He had eaten better in one night then in his entire voyage across the Atlantic.

"Where is it that we will be going?"  
The captain smirked at him, leaning back in her chair.

"That, I cannot tell you. Most of me crew don't know either, less chance of a mutiny."

"But from what I've seen your crew seems loyal."

"Aye, they are good souls, but sometimes too long at sea will scramble even the best man's brains."

She made to stand up, causing John to push back his chair in respect, standing as she did. She nodded to him before walking over to the door, boding him to follow. Pushing through the doors onto the quarterdeck she walked to the railing overlooking her ship.

For the first time since boarding the ship John was able to truly get a sense of its grandeur. It was a large three masted vessel that boasted three square sails along each mast. The sails were red as blood, the fading light of the setting sun setting them ablaze as if the fires of hell itself were fueling them. All he could see in every direction was the open sea, the sun setting over the port side of the ship, turning the sky and sea below it a fiery orange and red. On the horizon of the starboard side the sky was a deep blue, fading into an inky black as the light disappeared.

This was a sight John had failed to appreciate on his previous voyage, spending most of the two weeks trying to hold in his seasickness and stay out of the way of the surly crew. Needless to say, the sight before him left him in awe, the majesty of it could be described no less then an act of god, for surely a beauty such as this would not grace this world without it.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

John turned his eyes away from the sight and focused on the captain, whom he had forgot stood next to him.

"Aye, it is."

"The sea is a cruel mistress, Mr. Tavares. She produces such beauty but will turn on you in the blink of an eye, spewing forth a tempest that takes no prisoners nor cares for the soul a man."

He was no fool, he heard tales of ships that left for sea and never again returned to port. Tales of raging hurricanes and great sea monsters that overtook the grandest ship hole, swallowing it and its crew to the deepest cavern of its belly. He must have been wearing his fear on his face for the captain chuckled, shaking her head.

"Do not worry, Mr. Tavares, for tonight and tomorrow the sailing will be smooth. Sailors can tell much from the sea, read her signs and know her secrets. There is a saying that holds true of the sea and you'd do well to remember it. Red sky at night, sailor's delight, red sky in mornin' sailors take warning."

John sighed in relief nodding as he watched the sun slip out of sight. Captain McTavish took a step back, frowning as she looked at something that obviously displeased her on the main deck. John watched as an extremely tall man looked up from where he was mopping the deck, his gaze narrowing as he threw the mop down and stomped over to the stairway leading to the quarterdeck.

He heard the captain sigh as he climbed the stairs, getting a better look at the man in front of him. The man's dark hair was slicked back over his head, his large nose held the appearance that he had been in one too many bar brawls and when he opened his mouth to speak John was partially horrified to find that he was missing one of his front teeth.

The man started rambling in a language John had never heard, gesturing with his hands in an angry manner.

"Alex!"  
The man quickly shut his mouth as the captain growled out his name.

"If you have something to say to me, you damn well do it in a language I understand."

"I no understand! Why you pick Лучшие альбомы to do books! I loyal five year why you no think I good?"

"Ovie, you know I know you are a good pirate and sailor. But I don't think you have a future in accounting."  
The man blinked as her before narrowing his eyes at John.

"I no understand."

"John here is an accountant, he will be taking over the books and will give you more free time. Perhaps to continue your English lessons with Meg?"

At the woman's name Alex grinned, nodding once before shaking John's hand, bowing to the captain and trotting off down the stairs, whistling as he went.  
John blinked in confusion before turning to the captain who merely rolled her eyes.

"You'll get used to him. Russian's are a weird bunch."

"Russian?"

"Aye, wont tell me his real story but found the poor lad starving of belly and thirst during my travels to the north. He's a bit eccentric but a good worker."

She shook her head and leveled her voice, as if just remembering that she was talking to a man that had been on her ship for less than a week.

"You will be sleeping with the crew, they'll pay you no mind or it'll be their hides for it. Claude!"

A ginger haired man who had been cleaning the deck's head snapped up. He placed the scrub brush he had been using back into a bucket and wiped off his hands before trotting up the stairs and nodding to his captain.

"Aye Captain?"

"Please show Mr. Tavares his sleeping quarters and show 'em the ropes a bit. You'll be on first watch."

"Aye Captain."

"Oh, and Claude? Talk to Kane about gettin' the man some proper clothes aye?"  
Claude nodded at the captain before pushing John out in front of him.

"Come on you."

John briefly thanked the captain before following the man, Claude, down the steps and into the bowels of the ship. He listened as Claude pointed out various rooms, taking only a few minutes before his head was spinning and he was officially lost. Finally Claude pushed open a door to a large open room, sleeping canopies hung in between posts, some with men snoring away in them. Claude wove his way through them, finally coming to an empty one and waving his hand over in a grand fashion.

"You're quarters good sir."

John heard a snort coming from the hammock to his right and Claude kicked his leg out, hitting the figure and getting a grunt in return.

"I dunno what you're laughin' about pretty boy. Captain says you gotta stitch up some new clothes for this man 'er."

The man in the hammock groaned, letting out a curse as his hand popped up to give Claude his middle finger. Claude simply laughed and turned back to John.

"Where you from?"

"Great Britain."  
Claude rolled his eyes and leaned against a support column.

"No shite, I'm not a simpleton. Where in the great majesty's kingdom?"  
John noted the utter sarcasm in the man's voice as he spoke about the king but wisely chose to ignore it.

"London."

"Ah, a right proper gentleman we have on our hands. You hear that boys?"

A few cheers and a catcall came from the men in the hammocks causing Claude to laugh and John to nervously wipe his hands on his trousers.

"And where, might I ask, do you come from?"

Claude blinked at John, a smirk planted on his face.

"La France."

With that Claude pushed off of the column and headed towards the door, John's gaze flicking around for his friend before calling out to Claude before he left.

"Wait, I- my friend, Sidney. Is he here? May I speak with him?"

Claude turned around, chuckling darkly before shaking his head.  
"Aye, he's 'ere alright. I don't think he'd be likin' the looks of you at the moment."

"Is he well?"

At this multiple chuckles arose from the men.  
"Aye, if Meg and Anna are tending to him then he's more then well."

John sighed in relief and nodded before heading back towards his hammock, kicking off his shoes and hoisting himself into it as he drifted off to sleep, wondering what was to become of his fate.  
The next week went by in the same fashion as his first day above deck. He spent his days pouring over the complexity of the books the captain kept, running numbers and pounding out calculations as he fought off constant headaches. He was glad to discover that his seasickness was all but gone, the larger pirate vessel cutting through the choppy waters of the Atlantic at a much smoother pace. Dinner was spent with the captain, answering all of her questions about his life in London and his schooling, while getting little to no information about the woman that held him captive.

On day three he had finally caught sight of Sidney, the young man stumbling into the bunkroom with a dreamy look on his face, hair mused and large bruises around his neck. When John had enquired if someone had hurt him the young man had simply laughed, shaking his head before giving John a tight hug and telling him that he'd understand one day. Needless to say John had been quite confused and put out as the younger man spoke to him like Sidney had been John's elder.

At night the crew mostly ignored him, taking to their hammocks while bickering at each other, leaving him be. One of his few interactions had been with Kane, or Patrick as he now knew him, to get his sizing and to deliver pants and shirts worthy of sea work.

On day twelve he was awoken when he hit the hard wood of the floor, glancing up to see Ovie standing over him, grin planted firmly on his face.

"You come with me. Captain orders."

John grunted and pushed himself off the floor, pulling on his boots and a shirt before following the large Russian above deck. He was startled to find most of the crew there, some of them holding mock sword duels while others placed wages. Unlike the fights that had taken place with the prisoners, these held a sense of entertainment and fun.  
A blunt sword was thrust into his hand by Ovie before he faced him.

"Teach you fight."

"Why?"

"Captain say you need know fight. Otherwise lie-liebilty."

"Very well then."

"We see what you know," John had no other warning before Ovie was advancing on him, bringing his sword up to parry a blow before Ovie could hit him. Ovie raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat impressed. John took a step back before lunging and going on the offensive, shocking the large man as he looked for a weak point. The Russian grinned, dueling with John for a few minutes before he stepped back.

"You not bad like Tavish say."

"You're right Ovie," John looked over as the captain walked towards the pair, eying him up.

"You were a fencer, were you not?"

John nodded and eyed her wearily as she drew the sword at her hip, holding it up in salute. John gulped but did the same, squaring off and correcting his footwork to proper form. The captain advanced, John parrying her blows as she struck with a talent he had rarely seen the likes of. He held her off and managed to get in a few attacks of his own before she quickly parried his blade, the hilts getting caught in each other. He glanced down to disengage them only to have his feet taken out from underneath him and the feel the cool steel of a blade digging into his neck. Glancing up he dropped his blade as the captain held a curved dagger to his neck.

"Your technique is impeccable Mr. Tavares, however what fencing does not teach you is the art of taking a man's life. On the seas there is no code of honor for a duel, it is simply kill or be killed. Ovie, teach him how to fight like a pirate."

Ovie laughed and reached a paw of a hand out to help John back up. Smirking as John looked at the captain in awe. She nodded towards him before making her rounds, correcting her crew on their technique where she saw fit. John sparred with the Russian for some time before switching to one of the men that had served them their dinner the first night he ate with the captain.

"How's it goin' mate? My names James but this sorry lot knows me as Neal, Nealer sometimes if they're feelin' particularly off."

John extended his hand, James taking it and giving it a firm shake.

"John," James nodded and looked him up and down.

"Aye, I remember. You've been the talk of the ship you have. Hold up in the captain's quarters all day, sleepin' with the lowly crew at night."

"I'm doing her bookkeeping for her."

"Aye, we had to hear Ovie rantin' and ravin' like a loony once he found out. Best entertainment we've had in a good long while."

John opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a shout from across the deck. He turned to see the slight woman, Anna, viciously sparring with Kane, and from the looks of things she was winning. James laughed at the look on John's face and nudged his shoulder against his.

"Looks like you've never seen a woman fight before."

"No, well, it certainly wasn't a proper practice back in London."

"Indeed. Don't let that she-devil's size fool you. I've seen 'er take down men three times her size without battin' one of 'er pretty little eyelashes. She's a vicious little thing."

"Yes, the first day in the dungeons two of the men tried to overpower her."

James nodded and smirked, watching with John as Anna disarmed Kane, swinging her leg around and taking the man's legs out from underneath him before straddling his chest, pinning his arms down with her knees and holding her sword to his throat, a wicked grin on her face.

"An act that they ultimately would regret."

The crew around them cheered as Kane surrendered and Anna pushed herself to her feet, taking a little bow before shouting out to the crew.

"Alright you sorry poffers, who's next!"

Claude stepped up to the woman, grinning as he held his sword up. Anna laughed and circled him sword drawn.

"Sure you can handle this Frenchie?"

The clanging of blades rang out as the rest of the crew continued with their training. John and James sparring for a bit before resting against the outer railing, letting the sea breeze cool the sweat from their skin. The ringing of a bell from above had John glancing up and the rest of the crew still.

"Captain! Captain! Port side, Royal Navy!"

McTavish was already there, looking glass extended as the crew waited for orders.

"All hands make sail!"

At her words the crew scrambled about, each man, or woman, running to a particular station. John stood stupidly, not knowing what to do as the captain barked out orders.

"Simmonds on the helm!"

John watched as she took the stairs to the quarterdeck two at a time, standing besides Simmonds as he took hold of the wheel.

"Loose the mizzen sail, prepare to come about!"

It was an organized chaos on deck, each crewmember knowing their exact place as they scurried up and down the masts and worked ropes seamlessly.

"Ready about!"

John stumbled as the ship pitched, sails swinging across on their booms as the ship turned direction. Just like that the ship had about faced and was sailing in the opposite direction.

"More sail! Right yar between wind and tide lads! Whole damn British Royal Navy out there."

John squinted over the side of the ship, barely seeing the whites of sails in the distance as his heart leapt. If the navy caught up with them then he could have a chance to go home!  
Unfortunately for him it seemed that the ship he was on was far superior and he watched with a heavy heart as the sails disappeared over the horizon. Even though the navy was out of sight the ship still sailed at full mast. The red sails pushing it onward at a great speed.

"Well done lads, keep a steady eye out. Don't need those bloody royals breathin' down our necks aye?"

"Aye," rang out from the crew as McTavish slapped Simmonds on the shoulder and took to her quarters. Not realizing that his feet were following her John stopped when he was outside of the door to her chambers, hesitating before knocking lightly.

"Enter!"

She was standing over the large wooden table, a large sea chart spread out before her as her gaze poured over it. She glanced up and motioned him inside when she saw who it was.

"Mr. Tavares, what may I assist you in?"

"I, well, um-"

"Please Mr. Tavares I do not have all day. Especially not with the British Royal Navy breathing down my neck."

Before he could respond the door slammed open, Claude striding through them, barely glancing at John before looking to his captain.

"Yes, First Mate Giroux, what is it?"

"What is our course of action, Captain?"  
She glared at the man in front of her before looking towards John.

"Mr. Tavares, if you will excuse us please?"

John nodded and left her quarters shutting the door behind him but leaning towards it in an attempt to listen. If they were to make for England and he could get word out somehow, he might be saved. He leaned closer to the door and, although muted, he could hear their voices.

"That's the third armada we've seen in as many weeks Captain. No doubt they've seen us."

"I know. They will be expecting us to head south, probably to Ponta Delgada."

"Right into the middle of those bastards trade routes. We don't have enough supplies to make for the colonies, no doubt British eyes will find us in France and we very well cant make port in Spain after you took down three of their ships in one night."

"We make for Ilhéu de Vila."

"Surely there is somewhere else…"

"We make for Pirate Bay, surely that should excite you? Or have you slept your way through that entire town?"

John could hear the Frenchman curse through the door and the captain laugh.

"Set course for Ilhéu de Vila Claude, we will restock there and head for the Caribbean. Before we make sail for the islands you and your crewmates are going to get a nice holiday."

John scrambled away from the door stepping back as it banged open and Claude glared at him. He was called in by the captain and told to sit.

"So you know of our plans then," John could feel his face flush at being caught and the captain chuckled.

"I know my own ship, Mr. Tavares. Now, I do believe there was something you wished to discuss with me, was there not?"

"Yes, I, um before. When the crew was at the ready I felt as if I were merely in the way."

"Ah, well that's most likely because you were."

She smiled as he squirmed in his seat.

"Your friend Sidney is fitting in quite seamlessly, as is Higgins. Maybe, I cut back your time spent on my books and they teach you a proper day's work aye?"

John gulped but nodded, knowing he was much more valuable as a crewman then as a bookkeeper.

"Aye, that seems fitting."

"Very well, you will start with Sidney at dawn on first shift. Be warned, Mr. Tavares, this work will break your back if not done properly. Might still even if it is."  
John nodded before pushing his chair back.

"Will you join me again for dinner this evening. I've quite enjoyed our conversation, however once you start work with the crew we will no longer be able to continue."

"Yes, Captain. I will see you then."

That night John walked in to a feast and wondered, not for the first time, where all this decadent food was being stored and who was cooking it. He almost moaned in delight at the dessert pudding, closing his eyes and savoring the flavors on his tongue, knowing that the following night would most likely be salted meat and hardtack again.

He had, unwisely, drank one too many glasses of the decadent wine and found his lips a little looser than a proper English gentleman's should be. Captain McTavish seemed to revel it, asking him questions and getting any answer she desired.

"I have a question!"  
McTavish snorted and leaned back in her chair, taking another sip out of her goblet.

"Do you?"

"Aye, what, and I mean no offense when I ask this, are you doin' captainin' a pirate ship?"

"You mean because I'm a woman?"

"Not sayin' you're any less for that, just seems a little untraditional."

"You know John, I've killed a man for sayin' less than that."

"My apologies, I meant no offense."

"Lucky for you my mood is right this night. You will find your answer when you seek the name of this mighty ship."  
John closed his eyes and thought, knowing he had heard the ship's name from one of the crew before.

"Revenge."

McTavish smiled and nodded.  
"Aye, John, revenge."

The room was tilting and John shook his head to try and clear it.  
"Revenge against who?"  
He watched as her hand came up to fondle a chain around her neck before she answered him.  
"British scum."

"What'd they do to you?"

McTavish blinked at him before taking another drink of her wine.  
"I think that question is for another time."

"Okay," he tried not to slur his words but didn't figure he was having luck. "One more question!"  
McTavish looked torn between annoyed and amused before she nodded her head.

"What's yer real name? Like, your first name."  
At this she laughed out loud, guiding him over to the door, opening it and pushing him out onto the quarterdeck.

"Molly, me name is Molly."  
With that the door shut in his face, causing him to stumble back and smile, walking to the bunkroom and muttering to himself.

"Molly McTavish, pirate of the high seas."

The next morning John could only describe as absolute torture. He was awoken by Sidney, the young man shaking him awake well before the sun was up. His head was pounding from the wine the night before as he followed the boy above deck. From there it had been hell. Hours of back wrenching dangerous work as he struggled to learn the ins and outs of a ship.

By day three he almost considered himself a cripple, his back wrenched so bad that he had trouble moving and his hands cut open and raw from his work. His skin was a bright red, burnt by the sun and the sea wind. The only good thing about his predicament was the crew had slowly started to warm up to him, no longer seeing him as the prim and proper Londoner that hid out in the captain's quarters.  
He ate with the crew in a small kitchen, provisions looted from other ships ensured that there was always fresh water and some sort of meat. He was surprised to find Meg and Anna pulled their weight just as much as the men, scurrying up rigging to loose the staysails or on their hands and knees scrubbing the deck. In fact, the two women scared him most out of all the crew, him taking sight at how vicious Anna was while he was in the brig. He thought Meg to be a little less insane but all it took was Kane smacking her ass for her to snarl at him and punch the pretty boy right in the nose, taking her knife out and holding it to his Adam's apple.

John had glanced at Sidney at that moment and almost laughed at the look of utter adoration on the young man's face.

An older man that went only by Briere gave him a salve for his hands and some pointers on the tasks he was completing. After a week he was invited to play cards with the men after supper and was told of tales of their lives. He talked with Sidney during his shifts on deck but the boy was not found at night. When he inquired with the crew about it they simply smirked and stated he was being well taken care of.

Two weeks in and he had officially formed blisters across his palms, the rough skin allowing him to work without the salve anymore. His back had gotten used to the work and he couldn't help but notice that his clothing fit a bit tighter across his chest and arms. The crew had all but welcomed him, only a few older members throwing him suspicious looks every now and again.

He had dropped his time to the books to once a week, and during that time Captain McTavish had been absent from her chambers. He found himself missing not only the food, but her company as well. He had been at the books for hours, the sun slowly setting through the large glass window that overlooked the stern, casting a beautiful pink glow throughout the captain's quarters. John rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, cracking his spine and sighing in relief. The door opening caught his attention as Captain McTavish walked through, giving him a slight smile.

"How fare the books, Mr. Tavares?"

"Better than before Captain. Might I insist that you call me by my given name? Such other formalities might see the crew put out."

She smirked at him and nodded.

"Aye John, you are correct."

She walked around to where he was still sitting in his chair, propping herself up against the large table in the center of the room.

"You have been on me ship for a week shy of a month now. Me crew 'as taking a liking to ya, says you're a hard worker and a decent man. I myself find it harder to trust you, giving you being English and all, but I'm willing to give you a chance."

John held his breath, watching as she studied him with her cool blue gaze.

"I'd like to make you part of the crew on a permanent basis, if that's somethin' you desire."

John sat in silence for a minute contemplating. What had his life been before being taken captive by pirates? A boring, monotonous shell of an existence, always doing as his family bade him, serving his father, and God almighty, like a good Christian man. He had even agreed to the treacherous journey across the Atlantic to marry a woman he'd never met just to appease his parents. He had never known what it was to live, to feel alive as he had these past weeks. He knew now the value of hard work, the strength of the sea and the men that tried to tame her. How could he ever go back to a life of propriety, luncheons and teatimes when he had known such adventure?

"Of course I would give you fair time to consider-"

"I'll do it."

Molly stopped midsentence as he cut her off, leaning against the table and smiling.

"I'll do it," he repeated. "I have no use for my previous life."

"You do realize that you are forfeiting any amnesty you had with the crown for a life of piracy?"

"I do, and I am more than willing to make that sacrifice."

Molly smiled before extending her hand, pulling him to his feet and squeezing his fingers.  
"Well then, welcome aboard Tavares."

When he broke the news below deck the men cheered, slapping him on the back and forcing him to down a shot of the vilest alcohol he'd ever tasted. When he almost coughed a lung up after swallowing it Ovie had laughed and patted him on the back, informing him that it was true vodka from Russia, only to be saved for the specialist of occasions.

Two days after he had been dubbed an honorary member of the crew, the bell rang out from the crow's nest.

"Land Ho!"

The crew scrambled to deck, preparing to pull into port as the small island drew near. The excitement on deck was palpable, the men buzzing with the thoughts of what they would do once ashore and the riches they would spend. The ship moored, longboats drawn out to bring the crew ashore. When John found out that he was to keep first watch over the ship he couldn't help but pout, wanting nothing more than to join in the festivities that were surely to take place on land.

"Oh piss off you landlubber! You'll 'ave your chance yet!"

He scowled at the Frenchman as Claude tossed him a grin before lowering down onto a boat. Only John, Briere, Sidney, Meg and the captain were left on board to guard the ship, but after a few moments John found himself alone on the deck. Sighing he glanced up to the quarterdeck where Briere had disappeared into the captain's quarters.

He huffed as he sought to find Meg and Sidney, not willing to take the night watch alone. Heading below deck he turned towards the bunkroom, changing course when he heard a giggle coming from the opposite direction. Heading down the hall he fumed when he heard Sidney's laughter. How dare he play  
games while John was left to bare the brunt of his dirty work!

Finally coming to stop outside a door, John opened it, ready to give the duo a piece of his mind only to find himself shocked stupid. He had been expecting Meg and Sidney to be playing a game, cards, or dice perhaps, not to be entangled in one another.

John knew that what he was seeing was blasphemy, that he should turn around at once and leave them be, but he could do no such thing. His eyes were fixed on the miles of porcelain skin, flushed in arousal as Meg's cupid bow lips let out sounds of rapture. He watched frozen as Sidney moved over her, pulling her leg up higher over his hip as his lips claimed hers in a passion that left John breathless. His eyes fixed on the way her skin turned white as Sidney's fingers dug into her thigh, holding steady as he thrust into her at an alarming speed.

Finally coming to his senses John stumbled back, closing the door in front of him and leaning against the opposite wall, completely out of breath. He tried to close his eyes but the sinful visions played behind his eyelids, tormenting him as he listened to the noises coming from behind the closed door.  
"You know, some consider it impolite to interrupt such an act," John jumped, almost startled out of his skin as McTavish eyed him down the hallway. He opened his mouth to reply and was most horrified that he could not formulate words, his blood rushing through his veins like a raging river overflowed by the rain. He could do nothing but dig his fingers into the wood of the wall behind him as she made her way towards him, gasping for breath as she crowded his space.

"Surely, a man of your status would be familiar with such… relations?"

John could do nothing but stare at her, overly aware of her warm breath ghosting over his neck. Her eyebrow rose at his lack of response, a smirk gracing her lips as she eyed him.

"Perhaps not?"

He was saved from answering by Breire making his presence known in the hall, stopping when he heard the noises coming from within the room and shaking his head.

"Claude will be heartbroken."

"Oh rubbish, that man has managed to sleep his way through every port we anchor at."  
Briere let out a chuckle and nodded his head.

"True, but he is a bit soft for Meg."

A loud moan followed by Sidney's name came from the room and had John blushing to his roots. McTavish chuckled and motioned down the hall for the two men to follow. The two spoke of shift watches and plans ashore but John could only think of what he had walked in on. No doubt what he saw had been the holiest most sacred act between a man and his wife, but never in all his years of schooling could he imagine it to be so primal, so passionate.  
He was vaguely aware of McTavish dismissing Briere before she turned to him, knowing smile on her face.

"You've never known the love of a woman, have you John?"

John wanted to deny it, to claim that he had experience with the opposite sex but the words died in his mouth when she looked at him. McTavish smiled at him and shook her head.

"Poor man. When you go ashore tomorrow ask Kane to bring you to the company of a lady. You do not know what you miss out on."  
John managed a shaky, flushed nod.

"Aye Captain."

"Aye, go get some shut eye. Briere will talk first watch and those two will take second."

"Thank you Captain."

John managed to climb into his hammock and attempted to sleep. The images he saw haunting him as they played over and over in his head. He was ashamed as arousal grew in him and he felt guilt when he pressed the heel of his hand to the growing bulge in his trousers, moaning out at the bliss that ran through his veins at his own touch.

And so with no sailors around, and no one to interrupt him, John stroked himself to completion for the first time since he was a preteen, thoughts of blonde hair and blue eyes haunting him as he released onto his stomach.


	2. Part II

The next day found him, McTavish, Briere, Meg and Sidney in a long boat heading ashore. They met Claude, Neal, Skinner and Anna halfway, all of them looking like they were rode hard and put up wet. Claude was sporting a black eye and split lip while Anna's eyes were struggling not to cross. McTavish simply rolled her eyes at them in passing, John trying not to flush as he thought about his sinful actions the previous night.

They arrived on shore and John's first steps felt off, as if he were expecting the ground to pitch and sway underneath him. Faltering a little in his step he heard Briere chuckle before his hand landed on his shoulder.

"Don't worry 'bout it mon ami, you just finally 'ave your sea legs is all. Takes a bit getting used to bein' on dry land again."

John smiled at the older man and nodded, following the group up the dock and into a small town. He turned only to find McTavish walking an opposite way, her brows drawn as she looked at something. He meant to follow her but a strong hand and a stern shake of Briere's head had him following him instead. They walked into what could only be described as a tavern, regardless of the fact that it was not even noon, and found most of their crew passed out in various states of undress. Briere simply rolled his eyes and ordered four pints, handing them to John, Sidney and Meg before clinking them together.

John managed to choke down a couple of mouthfuls, the foul ale doing nothing for his palette as he surveyed the damage of the room around him. Tables were overturned, sleeping bodies strewn about as if it were an everyday norm. The buxom barkeep continued to wipe down the bar as if nothing were amiss, winking at Briere as he ordered another ale. Sidney and Meg had managed to disappear again, leaving John at the bar with Briere and his sleeping crewmates.

John stayed at the tavern with the older man, conversing with him and enjoying himself as Briere told him of his previous life. A life in France with his wife and three sons, all of which had been taken from him by the fever when he was at sea with the French Navy. He spoke of a life of love and joy, his sons so full of vibrant youth and his wife so full of passion and devotion. Returning from sea to find their fresh graves had broken the man beyond repair, turning him to drink and despair before McTavish pulled him out of the gutter.

He stayed drinking with Briere well into the night, when their crewmates started to stir and patrons flooded the tavern as the sun set. By that point John was rightly drunk, wondering if he would ever find the love in a wife that Briere explained.

The bar wench was winking at him, refilling his mug and leaning over so her breasts were practically pushed in his face. He heard swearing in Russian from his right before Ovie was leaning over, running his large fingers down her exposed arm, making her giggle as he leaned over to whisper something dirty in her ear. John couldn't help the flush that heated his cheeks and neck as the woman batted her eyelashes at the overly large Russian before calling over her shoulder to the other barmaid, taking Ovie by the hand and leading him to the back of the tavern followed by whoops and cheers from his crewmates.

"Whiskey, straight."

He turned to look into the cool blue gaze of his captain, sitting at the now vacant stool next to him. Her drink was placed in front of her and she threw it back before sighing in relief and ordering another, turning to John as her fingers traced along the edge of the glass.

"So here I am, thinking that the newest member of me crew has never lain with a woman and I find you winking and flirting at the bar wench! Who'd have thought!"

John flushed even more, his ears a shade of crimson that rivaled the sails on McTavish's ship.

"Ah and yet that blush reminds me so of a virgin bride on her wedding night."

He honestly couldn't help it as he flushed more, digging his chin into his collarbone in embarrassment.  
A loud commotion from the corner drew their attention, Kane leaning over a smaller man as they yelled at each other. The other man threw the first punch, which Kane easily dodged before landing a fist right in the man's oversize gut. His punch was a catalyst as the whole tavern broke into a brawl, patrons grabbing whomever they could find just to drunkenly land a punch to them. John ducked as a fist came flying at his face, turning to find Molly landing a fist to a man's nose, blood spurting out of it as he swore and fell to the ground.

She laughed and grabbed John's hand, pulling him from the brawl at a run as they ducked and dodged through the fighting men, bulldozing their way out of the drinking establishment. When they broke through the chaos and out into the street Molly dropped his hand, letting out a laugh and throwing up her arms to the night sky.

"It has been too long!" She heaved a breath as she looked back at John. "Too long since I had a good bar brawl like that!"

John shook his head, a bar brawl not making it onto his personal list of things that were fun, regardless of his new pirate status. He watched in drunken fascination as she looked out to the ocean, her wavy blonde hair loose as it blew in the night breeze. The moonlight illuminated her complexion, casting her as an angel in front of him as he moved towards her. She stopped spinning in time for his hands to catch her hips and his lips to crash into hers.

Molly squeaked, her hands coming up to fist through his now neck length hair. John moaned as her short nails scrapped across his scalp, her tongue invading his mouth as if to lay claim and conquer it. He was too drunk to be embarrassed as he pulled her hips to his, letting her feel the evidence of his arousal as she plundered his mouth.  
She broke away from him with a moan, eyelids heavy as she took him in.

"Do you know what you've gotten yerself into Johnny?"

It was the first time she'd used that name for him and it did things to him he wouldn't be able to explain without blushing. He nodded his head stupidly, all of his blood having rushed southward in a hurry.

Her wicked smile left him short of breath as her hand traced down his chest, fingers toying with him across his stomach before coming to a stop just inches above where he wanted them the most.

"I know you are a man of God, John. Are you sure you wish to give into temptation?"

The sober part of him screamed at him, yelling and demanding that he hold true to his values, that he must wait until he was joined in holy matrimony before he gave himself to anyone. He could feel as the pirate side took over, his mind replaying what he had seen below deck with Sidney, the feel of Molly's lips against his, her tongue in his mouth, her ample breasts pressed against his chest, and he gave in, pushing away his conscious with more joy than he would ever care to admit.

His large hand grabbed her forearm where it had stilled, slowly moving it down until her hand was cupping him over his trousers. He had to visibly hold back his moan as her fingers gave an experimental squeeze as he met her gaze.

"Teach me," his words were accompanied by her hands leaving him, causing him to moan in displeasure. She reached for his hand instead, dragging him behind her as she made for an inn. She led him up towards her room, shutting the door and pushing him against it, pasting herself against his body like a glue. His head dipped down, desperately searching for her lips, when she pulled back meeting his eyes as the cool blue gaze of his captain met his.

"I will teach you, but when we get back to my ship, nothing changes. Aye?"

John nodded, his eyes almost black with lust as he glanced down to her heaving chest, wanting nothing more than to lick the soft skin presented to him.

"Aye, but for tonight, you are mine."

John awoke with a groan, his head pounding as he brought a hand up to shield the light from his eyes. He rolled over and his eyes snapped open when his arm flopped across a warm body. Waves of blonde hair lay spread across the sheets and down a toned back, the sheet covering her modesty below the waist but leaving the naked expanse of her back for John to enjoy.  
Little by little as the haze of sleep left, John's memory returned.

_"__I will teach you, but when we get back to my ship, nothing changes. Aye?"_

"Aye, but for tonight you are mine."

John let out a growl as he reclaimed her soft lips, the alcohol in his system voiding any sense of inhibitions or propriety as he pinned her against the door, working his leg between hers as he let his body run on the most basic instincts a man possessed.

Her hands roughly threaded themselves through his hair, pulling and scratching him as they tilted his head to where she wanted it. John broke away from her, his lungs burning with the need for air as his lips landed on her neck, tasting the salt from the ocean across the soft skin of her neck.

His hands held onto her hips, squeezing as the haze of alcohol burned away and reality came crashing back down. He pulled back and tried not to let his inexperience show on his face but Molly just grinned and led him over to the bed, pushing him down before climbing on top of him. John's hands fell to her hips again, groaning as she ground hers down onto his erection.

She grabbed his hands off her hips and placed them on her breasts, her breath catching when he squeezed them. Her hands came down to untuck her shirt, pulling it over her head, John watching in rapt fascination as she undid a binding around her chest, leaving her bare before his gaze.

He tried to control the shaking in his hands as he cupped her breast, his calloused thumb tracing across her peaked nipple. Her hands cupped the back of his head, pulling him into a sitting position and bringing his lips to her other breast. John let out a moan as his lips closed around her nipple, Molly's hand tightening in his hair as he scraped his teeth over it.

She grabbed his hand not currently occupied with her breast and led it down her body, placing it over the drawstrings of her pants and helping him to untie them. When he had enough room he plunged his hand down, letting out a moan around the nipple in his mouth when his finger delved into liquid treasure. He tore his mouth away from Molly's breast, pulling her head down and crashing his mouth into hers.

From there it was a mad dash, hands ripping at clothing until they both lay naked and entangled on the small bed. John rolled over, pinning her to the mattress and grunting as her hand encircled his pounding erection. He sucked in a harsh breath, his lungs burning with the need for oxygen as she pumped him up and down, her tongue tracing wicked patterns over his collarbone.

When he felt as if he were to snap he pushed her hand away, trying not to fumble as he aligned himself, the wet slick feel of her causing every last drop of blood in his body to rush south. He pulled his head away from her neck, locking eyes with her blue gaze and took a deep breath.

"Are you sure?"

The smile she gave him was equal parts adoring and infuriating, her only response was to circle his hips with her legs and pull him into her. She let out a moan as he filled her, back arching off the bed and blunt nails digging into his shoulder. John froze, every muscle in his body tensing as he tried to fight off the waves of ecstasy flowing through him, praying with his body to not give in now.

How could something that he had been taught all his life was wrong feel so incredibly good?

John dropped his head to Molly's shoulder when she squeezed around him, the tight, wet, heat nearly undoing him. Her lips brushed his ear before biting down on the lobe, causing his hips to involuntarily jerk forward.

"That's it John, move for me."

John groaned and retracted his hips, pulling out almost all the way before slowly sheathing himself inside of that heat he never wanted to leave. He was fighting every instinct his body had to just pound into her, a beast raging beneath his skin wanting nothing more than to claim her as his. She dug her nails hard into his shoulders causing him to hiss as their blunt edges cut through the skin on his back. Her teeth pulled at his earlobe again, her tongue quickly soothing the bite she left.

"Let go. I know you want to," she whispered into his ear, pulling his hips to her hard with her strong legs. John faltered in his thrusts locking eyes with her once more.

"I don't want to hurt you."

The smile she gave him was wicked, and traveled down his spine like a shot.  
"You wont, now give it to me."

John was still hesitant but one more clench of her muscles had him gasping and snapping his hips hard into her, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the small room. He let out a sound from deep in his chest that must have been a growl as he let himself go, pounding into her sweet body with ruthless abandon. He would still have been worried about hurting her if it hadn't been for the sounds leaving her mouth, her moans and cries of pleasure spurring him on as he raced towards his completion.

He watched in rapt fascination as Molly trailed her hand down her body, shoving it between them and rubbing in a fast pace over a place that had her body bowing off the bed, a high pitched cry escaping from her mouth. John grunted as she squeezed him, his name falling off of her lips in a sigh had him crying out as he burst, white hot light exploding behind his eyes as he slammed into her, his orgasm releasing so fast that he couldn't stop his hands from digging into Molly's hips so hard there would surely be bruises.

He wasn't sure how long it was before he was able to float back down to earth, but when he did he collapsed on top of her, laving her neck with sloppy kisses as he struggled to regain his breath. He winced as he pulled out of her, rolling onto his back and pulling her up so she was draped over his chest, his eyelids already feeling heavy.

"Are you quite sure you've never done that before?"

John let out a laugh and felt his cheeks fill with heat. He stroked his hand up her sweat slick back, rubbing his thumb across her shoulder.

"Was it okay?"

She scoffed and placed a kiss on his chest.  
"More than okay, Mr. Tavares. You are quite the quick learner."

John placed a kiss on the top of her mussed hair, the combination of the alcohol and his orgasm quickly pulling him into sleep.

A stirring body to his side snapped him out of his daydream, Molly rolled over and blinked the sleep out of her eyes as she yawned and stretched. She settled herself on her side facing him, head propped up by her hand as she smiled that predatory smile at him, not caring that the sheet didn't cover her bare chest. He couldn't help himself as his gaze flicked downwards, taking in the soft pale skin, riddled with small bruises. He licked his lips as he thought about the previous night, the sounds he had torn from her mouth as he sucked and nipped at her breasts, the way she had keened against him as his fingers traced through her wetness.

His arousal must have been written all over his face as her smirk deepened and she pushed herself up to her knees, the thin sheet falling away and allowing him to get a full view of what his hands and mouth had studied the night before. Like a lioness she pounced, pinning him to the bed as she threw a leg over his hip, pushing down the sheet and leaving him exposed to her gaze. His eyes rolled into the back of his head when she moved over him, sliding her wetness along his arousal.

She chuckled at his response before she moved off him, slinking her way down his body. Before he could protest, or ask what she was doing, her lips were on him, taking him into her mouth and ripping a curse clear out of his mouth. His hand came down to pull her off of him, for surely this had to be wrong in so many ways, but he found himself instead threading his finger through messy hair, moaning and falling back to the sheet as she worked him.

His eyes were squeezed shut, engulfed in the pleasure that the warm wet cavern of her mouth was providing him as he struggled to hold onto at least a shred of sanity. He could feel the pleasure running through his veins, that telltale tingling at the base of his spine as his hips shallowly thrust into her. He made the mistake of opening his eyes, glancing down his chest and letting out a growl when her blue eyes met his, her mouth stretched obscenely around him. Her gaze on his was his undoing, the damn inside of him released as he cried out and bucked up without warning, releasing into her mouth with a roar that must have shook the building. Stars danced behind his eyes as he panted, his body coming back down to earth from the heavens.

When he finally got his breathing under control he opened his eyes, watching as she sat on his legs, hair amiss and smirk firmly planted on her face. She climbed up his body, his spent cock twitching as she brushed against it. She leaned down to kiss him, languidly as if they had all the time in the world. When he pulled back from her he could feel his eyes drooping as she chuckled at him.  
He pulled her close to him, arm secured around her as she snuggled into his chest, his post coital bliss pulling him into a warm deep sleep.

When he awoke again she was gone. John sighed and dressed, splashing some cold water on his face before heading to the street and to the tavern. Finding Ovie asleep across one of the booths and Kyle curled in a ball on the floor, John simply ordered an ale from the barkeep and waited for the rest of the crew to arrive. One by one they trickled in, knowing that they needed to be back on the ship by high noon. When most were accounted for Molly strode in, slamming the door against the wall and bristling with fury.

"We leave in twenty minutes! Any man not aboard at that time gets left behind!"

She slammed the door on her way out and John shot a skeptical look to Briere, the older man simply shrugging at their Captain's fury before leaving to round up the missing men. Everyone managed to get aboard in time and they pulled away from the harbor, fully stocked to capacity with provisions for their trip to the colonies.

John took his place on deck, loosing the main line as Claude took his place behind the wheel. Molly appeared from her quarters, looking no less infuriated then when he had last saw her in the tavern.

"Set sail 20 degrees northeast."

The crew stilled at the captain's orders, most of them knowing that they were to make for the colonies to avoid British capture.

"Captain," Claude spoke up, voicing the opinion of the crew, "I thought the plans were to the colonies."  
Molly leveled her First Mate with a stare that could wilt flowers.

"Plans change. Set sail, 20 degrees northeast, the lot of you! Or I shall find some sailors that are worthy enough to sail under my colors!"

That got the crew moving, John included as he hoisted the mainsail, wondering what could have possibly changed Molly's mind.

Two days underway and he could tell the crew was restless, the joking and laughing that had once been a daily part of their schedule now nonexistent. The crew didn't see hide or hair of their captain, keeping the ship on course towards Great Britain but never getting a reason as to why they were sailing dead on into their enemy's waters.

John hadn't spoken directly to his captain since the morning that he had woken up with his cock in her mouth, wondering if her sour mood had anything to do with him. Whispers had started below deck, rumors that the captain had caught word of something that was driving her back towards England. John was scrubbing the deck, stationed next to Kane when he finally found the courage to ask the younger man what was troubling the captain.

"Ah, you don't know do ye? Rumor 'as it that the Capt'n used to be quite the proper Irish lady, married and settled with quite a wealthy estate along the coasts near Dublin. Well us Irish, see, we never quite preferred the idea of an English king, and fer centuries there've always been uprisin's and the like. Well McTavish's husband was found to be a leader of these so called uprisin's, and was hanged without trial in London. Body was beheaded and thrown into the street, dubbed a traitor to the crown."

John had stopped scrubbing at this point, too keen on Kane's story.

"Well, as it'd have it, poor bugger was innocent. Englishman that accused him didn't like the way ol' Mick was talkin' or some shite like that. And Capt'n well, she loved her husband somethin' fierce an' after his death she sold all that land, bought a ship and found 'erself a crew all on account of one thing."

John remembered his conversation with the captain, the name of the very ship he sailed on.

"Revenge."

"Aye revenge. She's been 'ell bent on sinking every bloody British ship she can find. Normally kills all the crew but one and sends him back by 'is lonesome to tell 'em that Captain Molly McTavish sent 'em. Was why we're all so surprised when she let you three live."

"And the man that killed her husband?"

"Ah yes, well that where is gets a wee bit tricky. See, that man there just happens to be the Commodore for the British Royal Fleet, one of the most powerful men on the high seas. An' I recon she's got word of where the sorry bastard is, and we're goin' to find him."

"This Commodore, what's his name?"

"That would be Commodore Bettman, known far and wide for one thing, and that's killin' pirates."

It took a week of hard sailing before they were back in British waters, narrowly outmaneuvering many a war ship and taking over three cargo vessels. He watched in equal parts fascination and horror as the crew easily took the ships, most of the behemoth cargo ships too slow and outgunned to even put up a fight. Even though a white flag was raised no quarter was shown and John had to watch as countless good men were tossed overboard, left to die in the sea.

The ships were then burned, deemed too slow to keep up with the frigate that the Revenge was. Apparently, McTavish would only take command of another ship if it were of equal class, and seeming as no ship on the seas, besides the Royal Navy's flagship, was faster then hers she only had her one.

They were about a day out of London when she called most of the men onto the deck, standing on the quarterdeck overlooking them looking all the more like a pirate goddess to John's eyes. She was wearing black slop pants, tucked into black boots that gleamed, freshly polished in the sunlight. A shirt, red as her sails billowed in the breeze and her cool blue gaze looked out from underneath a well worn hat, tucking back her long blonde braid.

"As you well know," he voice rang out over the deck. "We are headed towards England. We are to put an end to Commodore Bettman and his pirate hunting once and for all!"

Cheers went out among the men, some of them lifting their swords in the air in triumph.

"You have all served me well, given me your blood and sweat, the strengths of your backs and the precision of your swords. I ask now that you fight with me, one last time to show Bettman, to show the world that we will not be conquered! Are you with me lads!"

The crew, John included, let out whoops and yells of agreement, stomping their feet on the deck.

"Prepare, for at dawn we fight."

John watched as she walked back towards her quarters, wanting nothing more but to follow her but choosing instead to talk with his fellow crewmates. He completed his tasks for the day and was heading towards the quarterdeck to fetch Meg for watch when he overheard Claude and Molly from her rooms.

"My eyes tell me that the flagship Alliance will be stationed at Port Taw in a days time for training exercises. The Commodore will no doubt be on board, wanting to see his pride and joy is securely taken care of. If we get there we can have the element of surprise and not only kill the British scum but take the ship as well."

"What if we cant? The river the port sits on leads inland and has no alternate escape route, we'd be a sitting duck."

"It is a chance we will have to take. We outgun the Alliance two to one and she is slow on the bend. If she catches sight of us we can draw her out into open water where we have the advantage. There's no way Bettman would pass up an opportunity like that."

He could hear Claude sigh, the Frenchman obviously worried.  
"If it works we would have the beginnings of our very own fleet."

"Aye, the Alliance of which would need a captain."

"If you think it will work, you know I will follow you into battle no matter the circumstances."

"Aye, I do. Which is why you'd make a fine Captain, Mr. Giroux."

John scurried away from the door and went to find Meg to relieve him of his shift, wondering if Molly's plan for them would work, or if tomorrow would be the last sunrise he'd lay eyes on.

That night Claude found him, telling him that the captain had summoned him with an impish grin on his face. John fought the urge not to blush, scurrying above deck and to her quarters in a hurry. She didn't say anything as she opened the door, dressed only in a slip, and no words were spoken as he hoisted her into his arms and slammed the door shut with his foot, laying her down on her large bed and ravishing her well into the night, their cries of passion no doubt heard well below deck.

He awoke the next morning to find her dressed and pouring over a chart on the table, a plate of uneaten breakfast next to her. Knowing that he should leave but not finding the strength to he walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her and nipping at the soft skin of her neck. She sighed and leaned back into him, pulling him down for a kiss which led to him bending her over the table and taking her roughly from behind, stars exploding behind his eyes as she squeezed him like a vice, crying out as he pumped into her.

When he finally was able to tear himself away from her he redressed and pulled her into his arms, whispering words of reassurance that she didn't need to hear. Her face had already morphed back to that of his captain, all cool confidence and brutality as he slipped out her door.

The crew was buzzing in anticipation as land was called out from the crow's nest, as they came around the bend they could see her, the HMS Alliance moored proudly at harbor. At this point the Revenge had to have been spotted, but the Alliance still wasn't moving, Molly barked out orders, ready to come about as soon as the ship made chase. John glanced around nervously, something in his gut telling him that this wasn't right, the Revenge was already too far down the river, the river's opening to the Bristol Channel their only opportunity to escape to the open waters of the Atlantic.

Finally, having enough waiting Molly ordered a warning shot to be fired, the cannonball landing just shy of the Alliance's starboard side. Finally, the ship pulled anchor, giving chase as the Revenge came about, heading back up the river and towards the channel. John made ready the bowline, looking to catch as much wind as possible when he glanced up, and his blood ran cold through his veins. There, blocking their only escape route was the entirety of the British Royal Navy.

The crew was silent as they watched as at least twenty ships formed a perfect barricade, leaving them nowhere to go but up river and inland. John glanced towards where Molly was standing at the helm, face white as a ghost as she took in their situation. They had been trapped, whatever spies she had been getting information from turning on her and ratting her out to the Commodore. To take on this many ships was suicide, John knew it, the crew knew it and so did Molly.

"Lads, it had been an honor to serve ye. If we fight, we die, cut down like dogs. There is no honor is surrender but I am willin' to do it so ye all have a chance at livin'."

"Captain no! We fight!"

Molly shook her head sadly, looking proudly over her men.  
"I wont 'ave it, we all know that there wont be any chance at surviving."

"Aye, but if we surrender then surely you'll be hanged."

"Aye, Meg I will, but some of ye may be pardoned yet. Let the sails and hoist it."

"But Captain!"

"I said hoist it Giroux!"

And so John and the crew watched with a heavy heart as Claude took down the skull and crossbones and hoisted a white sheet instead, just as the Alliance pulled up next to them.

Royal Navy sailors swung onto the deck by what seemed the hundreds, climbing onto the ship in their pristine blue uniforms. The crew dropped their weapons and held their hands up in surrender as they were surrounded.

The sound of heavy boots had John looking up, watching as a man dressed in his finest walked aboard the Revenge. His navy blue coat was meticulously pressed, golden buttons shining in the morning sun, matching the golden trim around his lapels. His pristine white pants were tucked into whiter socks, which disappeared into polished shoes. An overly large hat, embroidered with golden thread and a large feather adorned his head. He walked with his pointed nose upturned, his facial features pinched as if he tasted something sour.

"Get your bloody hands off of me," John made to move as Molly was thrown to the ground in front of the Commodore, growling as the pointy end of a bayonet was held to his neck. He watched as Molly stood, chin held high as she eyed the man in front of her with hatred.

"Well, well, well if it isn't the infamous Molly McTavish, she-devil of the seas."

"Captain Molly McTavish actually."

The commodore laughed coolly, eying the ship with disgust.

"If you can even call this monstrosity a ship."

"From what I can recall this monstrosity has sunk at least twenty of your ships, _Commodore _," she spat the last word like it was poison on her tongue and the man's eyes flashed with anger. Before John could blink the man's pistol was out and a shot was being fired. Molly cried out in protest as Kyle fell dead at her feet, a pool of blood forming around the exotic man's head.

"Do not test my patience Mrs. McTavish."

John closed his eyes and sent up a prayer for the man's soul, watching as Molly was clamped with irons before the commodore turned to the crew.

"You all will be tried in court before god before any judgment is given. Tie them up."

John saw his chance, knowing that none of them would be pardoned for being associated with an infamous pirate, and took it.

"Wait! Commodore!"

The man scowled and turned to John, whose hands were held high in surrender.

"Please sir. My name is Jonathan Tavares and I hail from London. I was sailing on the HMS Islander when these pirates overran the ship. They forced me to work for them sir, otherwise they'd kill me."

"Traitor!"

"Bloody landlubber!"

John winced as his crewmates cursed him as he took a step forward.

"Please sir, I wish nothing more than to return to my family in London."

The commodore stepped forward eying John up and down with skepticism.

"You speak like a gentleman."

"I am sir, I did my studies at Cambridge. Please, I have lived a nightmare for the past months, you may check my credentials if you wish."

The commodore nodded and turned to his crew.

"Shackle them, I want the whole of them in London in a week's time for trial. You," he pointed at John "come with me."

John nodded and tried not to wince as his crew called him every name under the sun. He glanced up to meet Molly's eyes only to find her hatred filled gaze. He begged her to see his plan, to see that he was doing this for her, but she simply spit at his feet when he passed her. John followed the commodore onboard the Alliance, the grand ship like nothing he'd ever seen. They settled in the Captain's quarters, a servant offering John tea as he took a seat.

"I must apologize for my appearance Commodore Bettman, pirates are not known for their niceties when it comes to personal appearance."

"That they do not. I understand your worries but I must tell you that you will be guarded until your credentials clear your name Mr. Tavares."

"I understand completely sir, I only hope that it is soon so I may travel to see my family."

"Yes. The ship you traveled on, did she sink?"

"Ay-yes sir. Captain McTavish looted her stores and then set her on fire."

"Were you the only survivor?"

John steeled himself as he debated, not knowing if Higgins or Sidney had any family in the London area that would recognize them should they be placed in public. Yet he did not want to sully their case either.

"Yes sir. One of her crew had been killed and she took me to fill his place, the rest of the crew were slaughtered in front of my very eyes."

"I am sorry you had to bare witness to such tragedy Mr. Tavares. There are sights on the high seas that no true gentleman or lady should bare witness too."

"Yes, well I am anxious to put it all behind me sir."

"Very well, when we arrive in London I will have my men send word for your family and the departure books. If your story is true you will be free to go."

John nodded his head in thanks, the dainty teacup felt strange in his calloused hand as he took a sip.

"Thank you Commodore, your assistance is much appreciated."

The crew was thrown in the Brig, the Revenge towed behind the Alliance as she took for sea, taking a week to sail around to the River Thames, leaving the Revenge at Fort Tilbury before sailing the Alliance up to the Port of London.

Word had spread that the pirate ship Revenge had been seized and its crew captured and people on the streets cheered as they unloaded the prisoners.

John pulled at the stiff shirt that was entirely too tight around his neck as he watched his friends get shoved into a barred wagon to be brought to the jailer. The Commodore stood beside him, proud smirk on his face as the crowd cheered his name.

"Mr. Tavares, I am pleased to know that you are a man of your word."

He followed the commodore down the gangplank into the crowd and was brought before two very familiar faces.

"Oh John!"

He tried not to wince as his mother's bony arms made their way around his body, pulling him into a very uncharacteristic hug. He stepped back and shook his father's outstretched hand, the man's cold gaze flicking over him.

"Oh we thought we'd lost you! Oh just look at your face, tanned like leather, oh well that just wont do, we must..." he tuned out his mother as he turned to the commodore expressing his thanks and inquiring as to when the proceedings would take place for the captives.

"Oh I'm thinking to make an event out of it. Perhaps one hanging a day until the grand finale where infamous Molly McTavish gets the noose."

John felt sick to his stomach at the image his brain conjured up, but managed a nod and a goodbye before being whisked off by his parents. As he walked through the door of his childhood home and sat through tea with his mother and father he had never felt more out of place. The large house felt stifling, the air stale and stagnant as his tight collar threatened to choke him. His mother prattled on and on about trivial matters, most of which he simply tuned out as his mind struggled to come up with a plan to free his friends and take back the Revenge.

John scratched at his chest, the thick wool coat suffocated him as he made his way through the crowded smelly streets of London. He came upon the courthouse and nodded to the guardsman outside. The first hanging was to take place the following morning and John needed to put the finishing touches on his plans. He had already memorized the blueprints of the cells, shaking his head at the idiocy of the boy that handled the records.

He took notes of the number of guards and their shift times, noting that there would be fewer during the hanging, as they would otherwise be preoccupied with crowd control and the like. He finally was confident in his plan and headed to the tavern to meet with his cousin, knowing that without Sam's help there would be no plan to execute.

He walked into Stanley's Tavern and immediately recognized his cousin flirting with the barmaid. When John slid onto the barstool next to him Sam let out a laugh, slapping him on the back with a paw of a hand and shaking his head.

"Ah there he is! Back from his adventurin' on the high seas! Mr. Johnathan Tavares survived sailing under the infamous Captain McTavish! Can we please get this man a drink!"

The barmaid winked at him and placed a mug of ale in front of him telling him there was no charge. The two men chatted for a bit, Sam filling in John about his latest conquest and the trouble he had gotten into for one too many bar brawls. John suggested they get a table, one in the corner away from nosy ears and came out with it.

There John told Sam everything, from his capture to his time on the ship to his nights with Molly. Sam listened in awe as his formally bookish, boring cousin told him of a life of adventure and love on the high seas. Finally taking a breath John took a sip of his ale before turning to his cousin with all seriousness.

"I need your help."

Sam gave him a wicked smile that reminded him entirely too much of Molly.

"Where do we start?"

The hanging wasn't scheduled until ten but by nine a crowd had already gathered, everyone wanting front row seats to the first execution of an infamous pirate crewmember. To John's delight more guards were pulled away from the jails to deal with the crowd and that's when he made his approach. There was only one guard leading to the stairway down to the dungeon and John approached him, dressed in his best.

"Excuse me sir?"

The guard turned to him with a nod as John came within spitting distance, not thinking the English gentleman in front of him could be a threat.

"Could you please tell me-" he cut himself off as he reached for the guard, taking his head and smashing it against the flagstone wall, knocking him out. John caught the man as he fell, pulling him into a darkened corner out of sight. He quickly stripped the man of his coat and pants, pulling on the uniform and grabbing the rifle from the guard before tying up his hands and binding his mouth.

Plopping the hat onto his head he grabbed the key from the guard's belt and walked to the large wooden door, unlocking it and trotting down the stairs. There were two guards at the bottom but they paid no mind to him until he got to their level, by then his dagger was already dragging across one man's throat, before it was plunged into the other guard's chest.

John felt sick to his stomach as he plucked the key ring from the dead guards and stepped over their bodies. The commotion had prisoners peaking out from behind the bars of their cells and he smiled when he saw Sidney's head. It took the boy a minute to recognize him in uniform but when he did his eyes lit up.

"John!"

His cry sparked the rest of the crew to yell out his name and he shushed them the best he could, struggling to find which key opened the cell door. Finally the heavy door swung open and Sidney sprung forth, wrapping his arms around the older man's shoulders.

"I knew you didn't betray us! Everyone else thought so but not me I just knew-"

"Sidney, help me get everyone else out."

Together they freed the crew, John receiving pats on the back from all of them as they crowded around. Finally he came to Molly's cell and opened it, his heart beating through his chest at the woman in front of him. She managed a smile through a split lip and black and blue eyes and struggled to stand on wobbly legs. John reached out and drew her to him, eyes raking over her bruised body with rage.

"I'm sorry I doubted you."

"What did they do to you Molly?"

"Just a few beatings, nothing I couldn't handle."

John sighed and gently pulled her to his body, giving her a quick embrace before pulling his pack over his shoulder and handing out the simple hooded cloaks to the crew.

"Put these on and follow my lead. If anyone gets lost meet at the Docks by the Tower Bridge, there's a bargeman there named Sam he knows to look for you. We have to be quick."

John lead them up the stairs and checked to make sure they had a clear path before they headed out, putting a cloak on himself so he would blend in as well. He breathed a sigh of relief when they were clear of the courtyard, the docks were in sight when they heard the cry go up that the prisoners had escaped. They continued to walk normally as not to bring suspicion upon themselves and John nodded at Sam as they loaded onto his barge. Looking to make sure there was no one around, the crew climbed into the various crates and barrels provided for them, John scattering bales of straw and goods over them to make them appear as if they were bursting at the seams. John quickly shucked the guard's uniform, dumping it over the side, before donning a simple shirt and trousers fit for a merchant and Sam steered the barge away from the docks.

The spent an hour on the river, only being stopped once by British troops who quickly scanned over the barge before letting them on their way, telling them to keep an eye out for the escaped pirates. By the time they docked by Fort Tilbury John's hands were shaking. He pried open the containers, letting the crew out as they took down the dock and huddled in an alleyway behind the fort, the Revenge clearly visibly at dock. The Alliance had been sailed back from London and sat at a mooring next to the pirate ship.

"So what's the plan?"

John rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Before he could say that he didn't actually think they would get this far Sam stood up, cocky grin on his face.

"Leave that to me."

They watched as he sauntered his way down the dock, conversing with the two guards at the end before pointing off in the distance. When they both looked he kicked one in the rear and sent him into the water with a shout, slipping his pistol out of his holster as he fell. The other guard turned and was met with the hard handle of the pistol right between his eyes. The other guard splashed for a minute before sinking under.

Smiling a grin like the cat that got the canary, Sam motioned them over, the crew quickly running towards the ship and climbing on board. Molly and John were making their way down the dock when a shot rang out and Molly fell next to him, crying out as she clutched her leg. John looked up to see ten British soldiers charging at them, firing off rounds as the crew scrambled to get on the ship and make it ready to sail.

John leaned down to scoop up Molly, wincing as the pylon next to him splintered as a musket ball embedded itself in the wood. He got her down to the ship handing her off to Claude as he pulled her aboard.

"Go, you have to go now! I'll hold them off!"

"No, John-"

He cut off Molly and turned, firing off a round at the guards running at them.

"You'll never make it, I can slow them down. Go!"

He went to reload the gun, a shot ringing in his ear had him turning as Sam fired a round from his pistol, taking down another guard. He heard the ropes drop into the water as the ship pulled away from the dock as the two men hid as much of their bodies as they could behind the dock's pylons.

"I'm with you cousin," John managed a nod at the man before drawing his sword, the footsteps of the remaining soldiers getting closer.

"To the bitter end."

Claude struggled to hold down Molly as she fought against him, blood pouring from the wound in her leg as she called out John's name. They needed everyone else on the deck to make as much sail as possible to make their escape. They had lost sight of the dock but two men against ten of the Royal Army hadn't looked in their favor. Claude ripped off a piece of his shirt, wrapping it around the wound and saying a prayer of thanks that the musket ball had only grazed her flesh and not embedded itself in her leg.

When he had the wound sealed he looked up and was shocked to see tears in his captain's eyes. She had calmed down but her eyes were shut as she lay on the deck, the tears cutting tracks through the dirt and grime on her face. Shouts from the crew alerted him that they were being followed and he cursed, shaking her shoulders.

"Captain, please. We need you."

He could visibly see as she steeled herself, sitting up and wiping the tears away from her face, blue eyes blazing in fury. She struggled to stand hissing when she put weight on her leg but brushing off Claude when he tried to help her walk. She made it up the stairs to the forecastle eyes narrowing as the Alliance took after them.

"All hands make sail! We draw her into open water and then we finish this!"

They made it to the channel and she called out and order to ready the guns and make ready to come about. She was going to personally see when the life drained from Commodore Bettman's eyes.

She steeled herself as they got within firing range, ready to give out the order to fire when the British flag was lowered from the Alliance and left to the wind, landing somewhere in the blue waters of the Atlantic. The whole crew watched in awe as another flag was raised above the grand ship, a flag that was black and boasted a white skull and crossbones.

Grabbing a looking glass she cried out in relief as she saw Sam on the bow hoisting a line and John at the helm, giant smile on his face as he steered the ship towards her.

The crew saw the same and they let out a cheer that almost deafened her. The Alliance sailed next to the Revenge until they were safe in open water, throwing ropes to bring the ships next to each other as they pulled up and tied the ships off.

The minute the ship stopped John was jumping onto the Revenge, eyes desperately searching for her, his shoulders sagging in relief as he found her standing tall and proud by the helm. He took the stairs two at a time halting in front of her, hesitating for a split second before pulling her to him and sealing his mouth over hers, causing the crew to cry out in joy. He could hear the catcalls and whistles but couldn't find it in himself to care as he plundered her mouth, bending her back over his arm in a kiss so dramatic it was meant to be on stage. Finally they broke apart and he was smug to see that she was actually blushing.

Looking down at her leg the smug smile fell from his face and she shook her head.

"It's nothing," her hands came up to cradle his face and he placed a kiss to her palm. "I thought you were dead."

He smiled and shook his head.  
"Takes more than a few bloody bluecoats to take me down, don't you know I'm a pirate, we have thick skin."

Molly laughed and pulled his lips back to hers until a very loud throat clearing could be heard. The pulled apart to see Sam standing next to them, a smug smile on his face while he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, if this is what you've been up to no wonder you didn't want to go back to dreary old London."  
He let out a laugh and pulled his cousin into a hug, thanking him for his help.

"Well, Sam, now that we have another ship we are going to need to expand our crew. Any chance you'd be lookin' for a life of adventure on the high seas?"

"Well Mrs. McTavish, as it were I just quit my previous job and am in need of a new one."

Molly chuckled and extended her hand, shaking Sam's firmly before turning to the crew.

"Alright you scallywags I want half of ye' on the Alliance and ready to make sail in five!"

"Aye Captain!"

"Where is it we are makin' sail to Capt'n?"  
Molly smirked as she looked at Sidney.

"I hear the Caribbean is quite nice this time of year. Tortuga in particular."

The crew cheered, shouts of Tortuga ringing out as they divided onto each ship. John smiled before bringing Molly's hand to his lips.

"There is something I forgot, a surprise if you will."

A blonde eyebrow cocked in amusement as he gestured to the Alliance.

"You bring me one of the few ships that can keep up with mine and yet there is another surprise?"

"Aye, its on board."

She glared at him when he tried to help her down the stairs, limping after him as he boarded the Alliance and led her downstairs to the brig. She laughed out in glee and flung herself into John's arms, her lips attacking his in joy before breaking away, smile planted firmly on her face.

For there, locked away in the brig of her newest ship, was none other than Commodore Bettman himself. Dirtied and bloodied in his dress blues. She turned to John and he couldn't help but smile along with her.

"But, how?"

"He fights like a gentleman, truly spectacular technique, but as it turns out I fight like a pirate."

Molly grinned at him and walked over to the cell, leaning over the Commodore and giving him a wicked smile.

"Oh do I have plans for you."

John chuckled as the Commodore looked rightly frightened before Molly pulled him back up the stairs smiling at Claude as he took the helm to the Alliance before dragging John back onto the Revenge. They stood side by side as the ships parted, the Alliance falling into line behind the revenge as they looked out at the open ocean.

"Full sail ahead! Steady as she goes!"

The bow pointed into the setting sun was a sight for sore eyes as the sky was painted in red and orange, set ablaze as if it were on fire. John placed his arms around Molly's waist, placing a tender kiss onto her neck as they watched the sun set together, John whispering into her ear.

"Red sky at night…"

Molly sucked in a breath and smiled.

"I think, John, that it is going to be a very beautiful morning."

FIN


End file.
